1-7 February 1987: Some Reflections on my First-Year Students

UB Environmental Science Computer Room

A new position has opened up here for a physical geographer (two-year contract) and the department chair says he’ll recommend me for the job if I want it.  He thinks I work hard and get along well here.  I’m torn but will probably accept if the position is, in fact, offered to me.  The biggest drawing card is that I only have to be here teaching seven months out of the year.  Other bennies would likely include one round-trip ticket to Colorado per year, four weeks of paid annual vacation, free housing (nicer than my current little campus apartment), and a tax-free bonus of about 8 to 10 thousand pula if I stick it out for the two-year duration of the contract.  It’s a great opportunity professionally as three years here would greatly enhance my future prospects for university teaching jobs elsewhere in developing countries or consulting work in Africa.

My Batswana students continue to amuse me especially the boisterous horde in my first-year quantitative methods class.  They have a delightful combination of “Third-World” innocence with a dose of “coolness” including nice Western clothes, reasonably good English with charming accents, great dancing ability, and a capability to ingest large quantities of Lion Lager, especially on Friday and Saturday nights.  They frequently try to con me:  “Oh, Mistah Mahunnae, we don’t understand this at all!”  Translation:  “You have to go extremely slow and then give us all the answers.”  I just chuckle and keep pouring on the formulas and problems for them to solve.  The poor buggers really squirm at times.  The other day, one of the smarter ones told me she had a headache when she left the practical session.  I was pleased to know that her brain had been working that hard.  I see hope for the future of Africa in these young people.  If they can just learn how to multiply on their exam sheets and put off multiplying between the sheets of their beds!  I want to tell them that math and science have nothing to do with political or economic philosophy, race, religion, etc.  They need to get trained as engineers, computer programmers, scientists, etc. and eliminate the need for ex-pats like me.

Student housing at the University of Botswana turned into “Party Central” on weekends.  My one-bedroom flat was adjacent to this complex.  White noise from my electric fan and ear plugs helped me get a decent night’s sleep.

 

Although I’ve written close to 300,000 words about my African experiences and shot some 30 rolls of color slides and black and white photos, I’m not trying to get anything published yet.  The situation in South Africa is very complicated, and I’d rather not put my name on anything until I’ve been there the maximum amount of time my South African visa allows.  It expires in less than two months and I don’t know whether I’ll be able to get it renewed.  I had planned to submit articles to several alternative newspapers in the U.S. that had expressed interest in my stories.  Maybe I’ll eventually get a book out of my time here – the adventures of a middle-aged, non-conformist, white American travelling through the land of Apartheid.